


the earthling (bridge on fire)

by mintoche



Series: more miles than the world has to offer [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Martian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Astronaut Iwaizumi Hajime, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, This Is Sad, a martian au for the soul, bad ass motherfucker iwa, bc it my fave movie yall, botanist iwa, but it would prob be beneficial lol, dont have to read the book / watch the movie beforehand, premium space boy iwaizumi hajime, space pirate BITCH, vv sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintoche/pseuds/mintoche
Summary: “Unfortunately, during the evacuation, astronaut Iwaizumi Hajime was struck by debris and killed.”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: more miles than the world has to offer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927288
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43





	1. onwards and upwards

**Author's Note:**

> hey so I know that I should be updating gothel but this is a WIP that's very close to my heart for a while now, and I really wanted to share this :) also this is pro martian propaganda (GO WATCH IT)
> 
> I love the martian and i love iwa
> 
> iwa as mark watney fm the martian (fave fave fave) 
> 
> dont have to read the book / watch the movie beforehand 
> 
> listen to halloween by phoebe bridgers for the general mood of this fic

The conversation had started easily enough. He knew that it was coming, always had, because they had three weeks left to their final year at college and they couldn’t stay here. I mean, they could—Oikawa _wanted—_ they couldn’t stay here.

Their lease was over soon anyways.

He was watching a NOVA documentary on black holes, he remembers. Neil DeGrasse Tyson was saying something awe-inspiring about the vast unknowable-ness of space and time when Iwaizumi burst into their apartment, door slamming against the jam deafeningly as he skidded across the floor to hit the kitchen island.

“Iwa-chan what the _fuck—_ are you okay—” Oikawa’s already scrambling up off of the couch, ready to fight off an intruder or extinguish a fire—because what else could have removed Iwaizumi so far from his calm, collected self?

“I got in!” He yells, shoving a thick packet of paper into Oikawa’s face. It was slightly damp and crumpled, like Iwaizumi had run miles with it in his sweaty hands.

“What the—” Oikawa tries to read the top paper but Iwaizumi takes it back just as quick and punches the air excitedly, holding them aloft like it’s an Olympic gold metal.

“Tooru, I got _in!”_

Oikawa jerks at the use of his first name. This is big then, he thinks. He laughs. “Stupid Iwa-chan, let me _see—_ stop jumping, what’s wrong with you?”

Iwaizumi’s grinning stupidly, dimples out of hiding, every tooth out and proud. Oikawa’s stunned silent at this unrestrained, boyish version of his stoic, grumpy Iwa-chan. He’s so cute like this; his heart sings. He grabs Tooru by the shoulder and displays the papers proudly between them so that they can read them together. Tooru leans into his best friend’s shoulder as he skims the page, all but melting into his embrace until he realizes what he’s reading. He thinks his heart stops.

Belatedly, he realizes that Iwaizumi’s still talking, like he hasn’t realized the whole world’s stopped.

“—and training will be _hard_ but I’m so excited—I’m gonna have to brush up on my English—you were always better at that you know, and—”

“You’re leaving?”

Iwaizumi stops his excited babbling, looking at Tooru with a slight frown.

“What?”

“You’re really going?” He realizes how strange he sounds, but he can’t bring himself to care, the sky’s falling.

“What—Oikawa, we’ve—we’ve talked about this? You know how hard I worked—” Iwaizumi cuts himself off once he gets a good look at Oikawa’s face. He steps back like he’s been burnt.

Oikawa’s cold. “But…I never thought…”

“You never thought that what.” Iwaizumi’s mouth is a thin line now. No more of those gorgeous, straight teeth. No more dimples.

“You never thought that _what,_ Oikawa.”

“That you’d actually _go!”_ He doesn’t mean to yell, doesn’t mean for it to come out like that, and yet.

“You know I say what I mean.” Iwaizumi says.

“But—”

“What the _hell,_ Oikawa? You know how much I _wanted—”_ Iwaizumi turns around now, gripping his hair—that old habit he never seemed to shake. It was so Iwaizumi, that specific motion so full of him, that Oikawa’s heart breaks.

“What about _your_ dreams? What about what _you_ wanted? I was there for you. I thought—” He closes his eyes, grits his teeth. Oikawa thinks of the red jersey hanging proud in his closet.

“This is different—”

“No it’s not.” Iwaizumi shouts, but somehow it’s quiet too. “It’s not.”

Oikawa’s panicking. “Iwa-chan, don’t go—”

“I can’t believe you—are you fucking _kidding me?”_ Iwaizumi spits. “Why can’t I—you’re so selfish, you know that?”

And with that, Iwaizumi walks to his room and slams the door shut, and Neil Degrasse Tyson is still talking about the sacrifices humanity has made in order to traverse the stars, the dreams that have come true—

Oikawa turns the television off.

…

“Oh my god.”

Oikawa turns to look at Makki, who's staring at his phone like it had flipped him off.

Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh my _god_.” He repeats.

Oikawa snickers. “You alright there?”

They were sitting in Makki and Mattsun’s apartment, watching some sort of action movie with too many car chases and just a couple of tasteful explosions for dramatic effect. It had just been released to stream or whatever. It was either that or the one with the aliens. So, of course.

  
“Look at your fucking phones. Now.” Makki's still staring at the screen of his phone, the weak blue light doing strange things to his face. Making him seem almost...afraid?

Mattsun and Oikawa share a quick glance, then rummage around on the couch for them.

  
Makki's staring at Oikawa now, in a way that made the hair on the back of his head stand on end.

  
Mattsun finds his first. “Oh my god.”

  
He snaps his head to look at Oikawa.

  
He jerks back, phone forgotten. Their combined gaze an almost physical presence between them. “What?”

  
Makki and Mattsun look at each other quickly, then back to him. Oikawa was almost afraid now. Was it...?

  
Suddenly, Makki shoves the phone in his face.

  
There’s a quick blurb from the CNN app: “Ares III Astronauts Coming Home.”

  
“Isn’t the mission supposed to be lo—“ Mattsun chokes. “Longer?”

  
“It’s probably just—not nothing—I’m sure they’re fine?” Why is he saying it like it’s a question. Of course they’re all fine. He’s fine. Of course.

  
Mattsun’s scrolling frantically on his phone, pulling up the article. “There’s an official press conference starting now—on TV.”

  
Oikawa snatches the remote from the coffee table, switches the channel. There’s something in his throat, blocking him from his own breath.

  
_“...quick action of commander Lewis, astronauts Beck, Martinez, Johansson, and Vogel were all able to reach the mars ascent vehicle and perform an emergency launch at 11:28 central time.”_

  
There were six astronauts on that mission, Oikawa knows. He knows practically everything about the mission. Read all the articles, the official documents that were released to the public, the interviews NASA had sent out. There were six astronauts.

  
His breath is racing his heart now, quicker and quicker. Something in his throat. 

Six astronauts.

  
Maybe—no— _no_ —he promised?—

  
_“Unfortunately, during the evacuation, astronaut Iwaizumi Hajime was struck by debris and killed.”_

  
Oikawa leans forward and vomits all over the coffee table.

…

Iwaizumi moves out three weeks later, right after graduation. The Astronaut Candidate training program in Houston is rigorous, fast-paced. Merciless. Like how real space travel is, they say.

They haven’t really talked in three weeks.

Small things, like _I’ll be home late, don’t wait up,_ or _we have to be out by nine._ No words exchanged about what had happened, no attempts to bridge the gap. Iwaizumi always had, Tooru’s pride getting in the way every time. Just like now, except this time it’s unforgiveable. (Maybe?) He did try to tear Iwaizumi’s future out from under him. He was cruel. Selfish. (He was Tooru.)

Tooru hasn’t helped, he’s done his fair share of cold shoulder-ing, angry that Iwaizumi hadn’t tried to make first contact (haha) even though he knows that it’s his own fault this time. (Like it usually is.)

Tooru knows that this sense of hurt is unfounded, that Iwaizumi has every right to chase after his dreams, that Tooru should be elated for the chance to help him. It’s just that…Iwaizumi’s dreams shouldn’t lead him so far away from Tooru. Tooru is selfish; Tooru is awful for this, (he knows this better than anyone,) but there’s this sense of lingering hurt that he can’t shake.

Because what’s farther away than space—another planet? Oikawa knew that they would have to go their separate ways eventually, he just never thought that there would be more miles between them than the world had to offer. Was Iwaizumi that determined to leave him behind?

To protect himself from this cruel reality, he got angry. Mean, in the selfish way only Tooru could be. He didn’t hurt as much, like this, even if the guilt of it was heavy too. To shield himself from his own, too-close feelings; how he could pick out Iwaizumi’s face no matter how large the crowd was, how much he loved the smell of his dumb cologne and how it seemed to permeate the whole apartment, how he could recite his Iwa-chan’s beloved Godzilla movies in order from his favorite to least—all of it, like he had for years. He can’t tell him now of course, because he can’t use his feelings to bind Iwaizumi to him. He’s cruel, but not that cruel. Because he knows that Iwaizumi would stay; tethering himself to somewhere he shouldn’t be.

Iwaizumi is loading his last things into the moving van when Oikawa feels himself snap, slip into a deeper panic. He’s really going, isn’t he? Finally leaving Tooru, like he was always destined to. So he lets himself get angry, feel the sting of abandonment and betrayal. He’s angry at himself too, for being like this, being mind-numbingly enraged. Because Iwaizumi is _good, so_ good, and he couldn’t bear to lose him.

Iwaizumi is placing his apartment keys on the table now for the landlord to pick up later. Sighs, and looks at Tooru expectantly, tentatively. “My flight is leaving tomorrow, early…maybe we can grab coffee or something, before then? It’s gonna be a while, I think.”

There it was, the gate finally opening to the bridge that would bring them back together. Iwaizumi, being good, being the bigger person.

But Tooru was _angry,_ wanted Iwaizumi to be too. He wanted to burn this bridge so that Hajime would put the flames out, prove his devotion one last time by saving Tooru from completely destroying all of this.

 _Feel what I feel_ , he begs _. Get angry._

_Stay._

So:

“I don’t want to waste any more of your precious time.” Oikawa sneers, snake-like and slow. Burning it all down. “You’ve made it quite clear where your priorities lie.”

Iwaizumi flinches.

Then he leaves.

Oikawa lets himself stand there for a full minute (sixty full seconds, he’s kinda proud) before he falls to the floor, trying to stop the flames with his own inadequate tears.

…

The funeral takes place in Japan, _Iwaizumi Hajime’s_ birthplace. Oikawa’s heart twists because he’s not Iwa-chan, anymore, he doesn’t belong to just him. He is _Iwaizumi Hajime,_ famous astronaut, the fallen star traveler, Icarus shot down in the line of duty, pride of Miyagi, Japan, Earth; taken too soon.

He’s put to rest in Miyagi; in the local prefecture cemetery. Well, not him, but a huge, ugly square of glossy black stone with meaningless words etched into it. His body is still…there. Apparently the Ares V mission will include recovering his body, so that at least part of him will be home, finally able to rest. Oikawa can’t bear the fact of him _there_ , alone, for years, waiting on Mars for someone to save him. Bring him back. (and it wouldn’t even be _him,_ then, would it?)

This isn’t even a real funeral without his…body there, they can’t lay his soul to rest without it. Oikawa wants to scream because his body is an _it_ now, his Iwaizumi-ness somewhere else now. Gone, away.

The service is large, (it’s for _Iwaizumi Hajime,_ remember?) family and loved ones near the front, presumably so they can hear the meaningless words of the NASA Director (funneled clumsily through a Japanese translator, of course.) The television crews won’t leave, not even now.

“…onwards and upwards. His sacrifice will not be in vain.”

Makki and Mattsun are next to him. Crying, like Oikawa wants too. It’s funny, he thinks, that he was so free with his tears over things that didn’t matter, but now, when everything has been taken away from him, he can’t seem to find any. There’s too much grief blocking them, he thinks. He’s drowning in the tears he can’t cry. Bottomless, never ending; deep and dark and black.

Like the void above that had stolen his better half away from him.

It’s funny, how obsessed he had been with the idea of _upwards_ ; infinity and beyond, before all of this happened. It’s ironic, sickening—if his life were a novel that fascination would have served as foreshadowing to this nightmare, something the reader (not Oikawa, never Oikawa) would have known as inevitable from the beginning.

Oikawa had thought that the distance between earth and another planet had been insurmountable, but Iwaizumi has truly now gone to a place where he can’t follow.

Well. Not in any easy way, that is.

The thought has become more appealing.

The funeral is over. Seijoh is all here: the old team. All with red around their eyes. Kindaichi is bawling. They look to him, he thinks, but he has no words. Not for this. His tongue is gone today, maybe lost for forever. Who cares.

He knows that the big, black thing inside of him blocking his tears is guilt. For letting Hajime go, for being needlessly cruel all those days and months and years ago (two years, seven months, fifteen days), but also for not being brave enough to tell him—to push him away when they could have been together. He stole the time they would have had—maybe if he had done things differently—? This wouldn’t have been the outcome. This, whatever _this_ even is.

…

At the wake, Oikawa makes it his mission to get absolutely blackout drunk. He doesn’t think anyone will blame him.

He’s been avoiding Iwaizumi’s parents, because he can’t bear to even look their way, their sorrow terrifying in its deepness even from a distance. If Oikawa hurts badly, then they hurt the most.

And it’s not _fair_ that Iwaizumi was such a good person, because now everyone here is miserable, missing him. But that’s just it, isn’t it? The best of us cut deeper when they’re gone.

He wonders, are the years of being by his side, loving him, worth the pain he feels now, worth the rending of his soul? He had never thought of death as real before. He knew that people died, of course, they all did, but he couldn’t quantify the nothingness that it contained. The dark matter of it, committed to destroying everything (inside Oikawa) it touched.

And…

“How are you holding up?” It’s Makki. He remembers him being there when the news broke an endless week ago. He winces, remembering again the vomit. He remembers staring, stumbling upwards to clean it up while Makki and Mattsun screamed in pain, because this was something that he could deal with, this real, tangible problem—death was beyond him at that point, something he couldn’t even begin to understand with his crude human brain.

Oikawa does something noncommittal with his shoulders then takes another shot. Stares at the wall.

Makki waves at the bartender so he can do the same, and they sit there for a while.

Then, Oikawa manages “How are you doing, with all of this?” He’s trying to be considerate, like he couldn’t be for Iwaizumi before he left. He thinks that Iwa-chan would appreciate it from wherever he’s gone.

“I…I don’t know.” Makki grimaces. “I can’t—he was just, _him,_ y’know? I never…” Oikawa understands. Iwaizumi was too much of a _person_ , a presence, to be gone like this. Death can’t be real, he thinks, it’s too abrupt of an end, too cruel to be true.

Makki turns, abrupt, to grab his shoulders. “I…and I’m sorry.” Makki’s eyes are rimmed pink-red. Oikawa understands this too, understands that Makki knew. Knew how Oikawa felt, knew how it was too late to share that now. No way to free himself, let himself go.

“I’m a bad person.” Another shot. He’s feeling nicely fuzzy now, the pain fading (but only just a bit.)

Makki startles. “What?”

“I’m a bad person. I was so fucking _selfish._ ” He spits, suddenly disgusted. “I—I tried to stop him, you know. From enrolling in the program. Because that would have taken him away from me. I—I _wanted—”_

Oikawa slams his head against the counter. He thinks that maybe tears would come now, but they don’t. He thinks, giddily, how hilarious Iwaizumi would find this. _You’ve always been such a crybaby, and you can’t even manage it now? You really are a shitty guy._ (When he should be able to double the Pacific. He’s ashamed of his dry face, even if he won’t say it.)

“ _Woah_ , hey, don’t do that.” Makki rubs his shoulders as he tries to console him. “You’re not a bad person, don’t say that, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have wanted—”

Oikawa cuts him off with a disturbed laugh. “God, when did I ever care about that?”

He lifts his head to stare at Makki, smiling too wide. Makki looks back at him, wary and worried. There are people crying in the background, low lights glowing.

“What the fuck is wrong with me, Makki?”

Makki opens his mouth but Oikawa won’t let him finish.

“He was always _there_ for me, it’s not my fault—he was too good—why did he even stick around, Makki? When he knew that I would—?” He buries his face in his hands, hoping against hope that he could just fucking _cry_ already.

He feels Makki wrap him in a tight hug, whispering soft words of comfort. God, he really is shitty, isn’t he? Makki’s in pain too, he loved Iwaizumi _too,_ and he can only think about himself. (Just like always, huh? Seems to be a recurring theme in The Giant Shitshow That Is Oikawa Tooru’s Life.)

He was so cruel to him, too, the last time they talked and all those times afterwards that they didn’t talk. His heart is breaking and he’s selfish because he’s ashamed of _himself,_ he knew that he hurt Iwa-chan and he can only think to pity himself. When Iwaizumi’s gone, taken from a life that should have been long and gorgeous.

Distantly he thinks that maybe he’s focusing on all of this hatred and self-pity inside of him to shield himself from the pain that is The Absence of Iwaizumi, but he drifts away before he can think any further.

It’s just him and Makki sitting at that stupid bar for a long time.

…

Although they haven’t talked in years now, a day before the launch, Oikawa gets a text.

_I’ll come back safe, don’t worry._

…

He lied.


	2. when you're older

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for description of injuries and suicidal thoughts
> 
> idk how accurate time frame is, rip
> 
> iwa: on mars, v i b i n g  
> oikawa: on earth, c r y i n g
> 
> hey so sorry ab the long time btwn updates! life is not daijoubu :')))))))))))) thank you to all of you wonderful people who commented! you guys really helped me get through this chapter, which was harder than usual for me to write. thanks again!!!!
> 
> this chap is pretty emo, but it gets happier, thanks to Super Friends Makki and Mattsun
> 
> enjoy!

They’re in the locker room when the news comes.

They all take it just as well as you’d expect: it’s a fucking disaster.

Oikawa’s grimacing at his white knee pad, which obviously stains faster and much worse than his other, darker one. He’s going to need a new one soon.

He whips around when he hears Bokuto make a truly terrible choking noise.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Atsumu yells from the other side of the room.

Everyone’s looking at Bokuto in mild concern because the poor guy looks like he’s having a panic attack, eyes bulging out of their sockets as he splutters at his phone, hands shaking so hard Oikawa hopes that he’s got some sort of insurance policy on the thing.

“Are you choking again?” Yaku says, storming over. “You need to take smaller bites, I’ve told you this _so_ many times—”

Yaku’s motherly concern stuns Bokuto out of his reverie. He whips around to _gawk_ at Oikawa, who immediately leans backwards because what the _fuck_ Bokuto, because he sure does look like an owl but those neck reflexes are something else all together.

Oikawa has enough time to think _what the fuck?!_ before Bokuto’s winding his arm back and channeling all of his immense spiking power to throw his phone at Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa shrieks and somehow manages to catch Bokuto’s phone before it shatters his solar plexus amidst the shocked yells of the rest of the national team.

“What is HAPPENING!?” Atsumu yells, ducking for cover in case Bokuto decides to go full nuclear. Oikawa wouldn’t put it past him, because truthfully, the man’s insane. Oikawa loves him, but he’s insane.

Yaku’s _shouting_ at Bokuto. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Kageyama and Hinata are just kinda yelling, and Ushijima is muttering about an ‘assassination attempt’ or something equally ridiculous.

Bokuto leaps up and bats away a livid Yaku. “LOOK AT IT!” He yells to an absolutely bewildered Oikawa. Atsumu’s asking the right questions; what is _happening._

Oikawa brings the phone to his face because he _doesn’t_ want to die today and knowing Bokuto if he doesn’t do it in .3 seconds a Yaku-shaped projectile will be thrown at him next.

It’s a video from the NASA website—? Oikawa’s stomach drops so fast he’s dizzy.

He hits play, dread a living thing in his stomach.

 _"This is a short, but very important announcement,”_ the woman on the television says. _“I won’t be taking any questions at this time, but we will have a full press conference with Q &A in about an hour. We have recently reviewed satellite imagery from Mars, and have confirmed that astronaut Iwaizumi Hajime is, currently, still alive.”_

Oikawa stares at the phone for an eternal second before shrieking and chucking Bokuto’s phone against the nearest wall.

…

Oikawa visits the graveyard a month after the funeral.

He brings Mattsun with him, since he can’t bear to go alone.

Oikawa thinks that it’s okay, since Iwaizumi isn’t even there. It wouldn’t be sacrilege, then, to bring someone else with him, to add a third person to what’s only ever been just the two of them. He thinks, also, that since it’s Mattsun, someone else that Iwaizumi loved, that it’ll be okay. It won’t shatter what’s left of their unbreakable trust, even after that morning in their old kitchen years ago, even though Iwaizumi’s dead.

Why visit, then, risk it all, if Iwaizumi isn’t even there?

They arrive at the gravesite at around midday, driving instead of taking the train because Oikawa can’t bear to be around _people_ yet, even if they don’t know who he is.

It’s liminal and overcast outside, the bare branches of the November trees pointing jagged at the sky. The grass is dead and dying underneath their feet.

The grave is covered in flowers, notes, candles. All sorts of things that Iwaizumi deserves, this Oikawa knows, and yet each little thing for him he sees burns something ugly deep inside.

Is he— _jealous?_ Of his beloved Iwa-chan’s final resting place, how he doesn’t belong to him anymore?

Oikawa thinks he could laugh. He thinks that it’s funny, too, that Iwaizumi never received as many confessions as him in high school but posthumously he’s beat Oikawa tenfold.

Mattsun is a calming presence next to him, despite the anxious glances and uncharacteristic silence. Everyone’s been quiet around him, since the incident, like they’re expecting him to break down and go completely crazy.

He doesn’t think he will, though, that would be too easy. He doesn’t _want_ it to be easy, though, because he hurt Iwaizumi the last time they talked. Something as violent and grand as a supernova to serve as his end would be too good for him. His soul seems committed to a quiet rot, a slow disintegration, as inevitable and eternal as the final heat death of the universe. It was never something Oikawa had considered for himself before, but it is now something he thinks that he could make his peace with.

“Do you think he’ll haunt me?”

Mattsun swings his head around to look at him, a bemused expression on his face. “What?”

Oikawa chuckles, somehow. “Iwa-chan. Do you think he’ll haunt me?”

Mattsun looks less bemused and more unsettled, but that is quickly covered up with a wry grin. “I mean, if he’d haunt anyone, it would be you.”

Oikawa hums, smile fading. Mattsun places a hand on his shoulder, squeezes. “We’re all here for you, you know,” he murmurs.

Oikawa sighs. “I know.”

The grave says _Onwards and Upwards_ underneath Iwaizumi’s name and shockingly short life span.

Onwards and upwards. Oikawa had always loved space, the endless possibility of the cosmos, of adventure, traveling further, the promise never ending improvement. It was inspiring when he was young, but now it just reminds Oikawa of his incredible hubris, his worthless pride.

The pretty flowers on the grave rustle in the wind and Oikawa still can’t cry.

…

Everything is absolutely terrible.

Everyone stares at the mangled phone on the floor in complete silence for a long minute before slowly turning to look at Oikawa, who’s crouched down on the floor, hyperventilating like a diabetic chinchilla. Yaku pauses in the middle of trying to strangle Bokuto to gape at Oikawa.

The team manages to calm both Bokuto and Oikawa down to get the information out of the both of them. This doesn’t help at all, because once _they_ all hear, it all goes to fucking shit even harder. Even the most level-headed players on the team proceed to wig the fuck out; Ushijima stares at the wall in a complete and placid bovine silence while Yaku starts punching Bokuto, presumably in order to channel his shock at this whole _ridiculous_ situation.

Because, _yeah,_ what the _fuck._

Surprisingly, it’s Kageyama who comes to Oikawa’s rescue. He’s a whimpering ball on the floor amidst the chaos, trying his hardest to _cry,_ goddamn it. He owes Iwa-chan that much, doesn’t he?

Kageyama and Oikawa have been on better terms since Iwa-chan’s funeral. Funny how when something truly terrible happens things like years-old rivalries become absolutely meaningless.

Which is _hilarious_ because they had a funeral for someone who’s still _alive._

Kageyama sits next to Oikawa, not too far and not too close. The exact equidistance between two people who were once enemies and now are somehow almost-friends because someone who they both admired died.

Well.

“Iwaizumi-san will be okay,” he says. Oikawa only just manages to hear him.

“What.”

Kageyama shifts. “He will be okay.”

Oikawa jerks from his ball to listen to look at him, tries to scowl, but even something so basic as glaring at his annoying kouhai beyond him. “He is in _space. Stranded.”_ Oikawa hides his face in his hands. “They left him there.”

Kageyama looks calm, calmer than Oikawa can quantify at the moment. Maybe he’s just stupid. “If anyone can get through this, he can.”

Oikawa comes back out of hiding to look at Kageyama, really look at him. He’s not calm, Oikawa decides. He’s in shock. Is Oikawa in shock too? Who _knows._ Not Oikawa, that’s for sure.

It occurs to him that he should be hysterical, but he’s blown far past that. Maybe hysteria will come later, with tears hopefully. Right now he just feels cold. Driven to someplace he’s never been before. He’s beyond his own existence at this point. Iwaizumi will die. He is not dead, but he will be.

Oikawa—fuck, the whole damn _world—_ already thought he was dead. He’s not, but at least when he died that first, fake time, it was quick. Struck down fast and just.

He will surely starve, now. Slowly. Alone.

Kageyama is not calm. He is not sitting soft and sloped, he is rigid against the floor beneath and the lockers behind. His eyes are too wide, helplessly staring down headlights he can’t run from.

And he’s trying to help Oikawa, stilted and haphazard though this attempt may be.

He reminds Oikawa of Iwaizumi in that moment. It’s nice. It hurts.

Oikawa tilts his head to consider Kageyama, still waters running smooth in his mind. “You think?” He is drowning; he cannot break through to reach the surface.

Kageyama is not calm, but he looks brave in this moment, latching on to some sort of quantifiable hope. “Yes.”

Oikawa cannot see what Kageyama can, in that moment, but he tries.

“Okay.”

They sit together, but Oikawa is alone.

…

Oikawa’s watching old game matches when the new news comes. Makki’s with him, because apparently he needs a babysitter still. He guesses it makes sense, considering that he’s on forcible leave from volleyball for the next foreseeable while. He probably seems directionless and unmoored to everyone around him. He also thinks that they may be on to something as he watches the same video for the nth time, eyes and heart burning.

There’s a _ping_ from the corner of his screen and his eyes flick up from an American National Team practice match to notice that it’s a notification from CNN that says the words “contact” and “Mars” and without a thought he clicks on it, seconds later realizing what he’s done.

Horrified, he gasps and throws his hands over his face and screeches.

_“Makki!”_

Dearest Hanamaki is there in a flash, looking only a bit beleaguered. “What?”

Oikawa turns to look at him, with his hands still covering his face. He peaks through his fingers. “Read this article for me?”

Makki looks at him, then sighs. “Yeah yeah, whatever, your highness.”

Oikawa pouts. “Mean.”

Makki looks over his shoulder at his screen and Oikawa covers his face again. Oikawa hears Makki’s breath catch and tenses. “What’s wrong—oh god, Makki what’s _wrong—”_

“No, it’s good!” Makki sounds…excited? “Oikawa, look!”

Oikawa shakes his head, hands clamped firmly over his eyes. “Don’t wanna.”

Oikawa can _hear_ Makki’s eye roll.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Oikawa says, quite aware of the fact that he is being a total brat, but can’t bring himself to care as much, not when his heart is beating this fast, not when he feels just a little bit hopeful and a whole lot scared.

Makki sighs, then pries Oikawa’s fingers off of his face. “Look.”

There’s a picture there, grainy and gray and so very out of focus. It’s of a handmade sign on what appears to be the barren Martian landscape. He’s able to pick out his Iwa-chan’s handwriting on the sign, even though it’s in English and he’s years out of practice.

_Are you receiving me?_

Oikawa feels his eyes bug out of their sockets. “Holy shit.”

Makki nods. “Holy _shit.”_

Oikawa bites his lip, daring to hope that— _can_ he hope for things like that anymore? “What does it say?”

Makki tilts his head and scrolls down the page. “So basically they were able to make contact, and they’re doing basic communication and shit.”

Oikawa slumps back in his chair. “Oh—well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

Makki turns around to look at him, his eyes way too bright and discerning for Oikawa’s tastes. “Yeah, I mean, that’s the first step, right? To—”

Oikawa stumbles up, quick. “I’m going for a run.”

Makki stares at him, flabbergasted. “Wait what? Aren’t you gonna read—”

“Later, I will later,” Oikawa almost shouts as he backs out of the room, hands held in front of him like he’s trying to ward off an attacker. “Later.”

He shoves his running shoes on and is sprinting by the time he reaches the end of the driveway.

…

It occurs to Oikawa, later, that maybe he should be happy, that Iwaizumi has come back from the dead.

But Oikawa also knows that those days are limited.

He’s seen the math on the television. It’s all he does now, watch the television, watch the world melt down because nothing like this has ever happened before, the televised stranding of a man. They know he’s there, they can see him there, but they can’t fucking _help_ him, no matter what they do.

What kills Oikawa is that they _left_ him there.

He doesn’t know what happened, how it all went down and Iwaizumi survived, all he knows that by some cosmic joke Iwaizumi is still so very far away from him, as far away from him as physically possible, and there is no way for him to save him.

Death seemed closer than Mars. Death was a bridge he was always free to cross, if need be.

He can’t think like that, he tells himself. Doesn’t _want_ to think like that, he tells himself.

The thoughts still come.

…

Makki’s waiting when Oikawa’s back from his run. Of course, he is, Oikawa thinks, bitterly. Of course he is.

Makki wraps Oikawa in a hug, shushing him even though he’s not even crying. _(Can’t_ cry. Even though he had begged for it during his run, until the static numbness that lived a bit too close to the surface these days to be healthy swallowed him whole.) Nevertheless, Oikawa leans into the comfort, slumps into Makki.

Makki leads Oikawa back inside after a while, still letting Oikawa cling to him. He wants to go back out, so he can dissociate and run and leave all of this far behind, retreat far enough into himself that he’s just a pair of feet in uncomfortable shoes hitting the pavement over and over and over and over and—

Makki sits him on the sofa, helps him take his shoes off, gets him changed and showered. They watch a movie together, Oikawa still a slumped-over mess and Makki still a wonderful, patient friend.

Halfway through the movie, Oikawa manages a quiet “thank you.”

Makki sighs, pats his head. “Don’t mention it.”

“We fought, before he left.” He hasn’t told anyone about it, about _that._ The burning. He thinks maybe Makki knows, though. The years of silence made the rending between them quite obvious. And, well, he knows that everyone would assume a fight between them to be his fault. He doesn’t blame them, even if it hurts just a little bit. They are right, after all.

Makki tilts his head to consider him. “Iwaizumi?”

Oikawa nods. “He—yeah. Iwaizumi.” The name feels strange now, on his tongue. He wants to say _Iwa-chan,_ has _always_ wanted to say _Hajime,_ but that’s all he think he deserves, for right now. Maybe the only thing he can manage now, actually.

Makki breathes out, long and slow. “I figured.”

“I said—” he can’t manage to convey how terrible he was to Iwa-chan in that moment, but he can’t. “It wasn’t good,” he mumbles, finally.

Makki looks away from him to watch whatever’s playing on the television again. Oikawa wasn’t really paying attention. “Then make it up to him when he gets back.”

Oikawa tenses. “We don’t know—”

Makki squeezes his hand. “Make it up to him when he gets back.”

Oikawa lets himself hope, allows himself a slow and soft smile. Even if it’s just for tonight, when he can be brave with Makki.

“Okay. When he gets back.”

…

Makki and Mattsun have decided that viewing parties were necessary in order to watch the biweekly Iwaizumi Hajime Update™, as Mattsun was wont to call it. Ever since the whole “Ares III Rescue Mission to save Iwaizumi Hajime” thing was announced, NASA has been parceling out new information about Iwaizumi as soon as they get it. Thus, the mandatory viewing parties.

This constant stream of information has been simultaneously doing wonders and horrors for Oikawa’s blood pressure. It’s been _wonderful_ to have constant updates after the mind-numbing silence from when he was hopelessly stranded and utterly unreachable (and worse, when they thought he was dead.) Even before the launch, Oikawa hadn’t talked to Iwa-chan in years, hadn’t known what he had been doing in _years._ Even hearing about him doing things as wild and foreign as “driving the rover for thirteen miles north” and “depressurizing the airlock” is comforting and somehow familiar.

However, on days like this, he wanted to tear his hair out.

Today, all of Seijoh has found themselves gathered around Makki and Mattsun’s widescreen, everyone wide-eyed as some smug news anchor describes how Iwa-chan survived being struck by a goddamn _satellite_ during a _space storm._ What the _fuck._

 _“During the storm that caused the fateful evacuation of Ares III, Iwaizumi Hajime was struck by the satellite of the Hab* and thrown a considerable distance from the base, traveling approximately a mile in the Martian air, managing to dodge landing on the many boulders and crags of the Martian surface and instead landing on soft, desert-like sand.”_ The reporter looks too happy about this.

Mattsun gawks at the screen. _“What.”_

Oikawa’s frozen still. _What._

_“A rod from the satellite, however, had impaled Iwaizumi and remained lodged in his pelvis—”_

Oikawa _shrieks._

He’s not alone in his mental breakdown. Makki’s yelling some sort of downright ghoulish list of profanities that Oikawa’s sure he’s never heard before (what’s a feltcher?) and Kindaichi had flailed so hard he had knocked the remote right out of Yahaba’s slack hands.

Kyoutani launches himself underneath the coffee table to grab the remote.

“Everyone SHUT. UP.”

They all blink owlishly at him as he rewinds the channel and turns up the volume.

" _—lodged in his pelvis—”_ Oikawa blanches again, but manages to keep listening, despite the fact that he’s going to die, this is going to _kill_ him.

_“Fortunately, the blood from his injury managed to reseal his suit and subsequently save his life.”_

Kunimi, for once, looks horrified. “Well I mean when you phrase it like _that—”_

Kindaichi flails again, presumably to make Kunimi shut up. It works, somehow.

The anchor resumes her report, looking disturbingly pleased at this morbid story she’s telling. Oikawa assumes that this sort of thing is great for her career. Good for her, he thinks hysterically.

_“Iwaizumi, understandably, had passed out during the commotion—”_

“Well, _yeah,”_ Mattsun says. Makki hits him.

_“—and was awoken by the alarm of his oxygen tank reaching critical levels.”_

Watari covers his face. “This is doing wonders for my anxiety.”

Oikawa groans. “Oh my _god.”_ Makki hits him.

_“Incredibly, Iwaizumi managed to detangle himself from the debris and walk the almost mile-long distance back to the Hab while his oxygen slowly ran out.”_

“Oh my _god—_ Makki stop _hitting_ me!”

" _There, he removed the rod from his_ _abdomen and_ _performed emergency triage on himself.”_

Oikawa slides down from where he’s sitting on the couch. “I’m going to die.”

Yahaba whistles. “Damn.”

 _“Absolutely incredible, Rachel,”_ the other news anchor says, looking absolutely astounded by Iwa-chan’s badassery and overall excellence. Good, Oikawa thinks, from the back of his mind. You _better_ respect him.

Kyoutani looks absolutely awed. He’s still underneath the coffee table. “Senpai is a fucking _badass.”_

Mattsun shakes his head. “Wrong. Your senpai is the coolest person _ever.”_

Kyoutani looks offended for a split second, then considers this new information. He nods.

Makki pokes Oikawa from where he’s slumped over on the couch, whining. “Hey, stop it. You sound like an emergency vehicle.”

Oikawa sits up. “I do _not.”_

Makki just rolls his eyes. “Uh huh.”

 _“You_ sound like an emergency vehicle,” Oikawa grumbles.

“Yeah, sure,” Makki says. “Shush, it’s not over yet.”

Oikawa grumbles just a little bit more before he slumps over to lean on Mattsun, who pats his head consolingly.

 _“—no wonder Iwaizumi is now considered to be one of the most sought after men in the world!”_ The interviewer catches himself, laughs. _“Ah, sorry Rachel, I meant the solar system!”_ Oikawa hates them.

The woman interviewer grins conspiratorially at the screen. _“He’s got the looks, the skills, and the smarts! The full package!”_

Oikawa sits up to grab the remote. “Okay, we’re done here.”

Mattsun snickers and snatches the remote from Kyoutani, who seems too engrossed in the program to care. “No wait, this is my favorite part!”

“Give it to me,” Oikawa orders, hand outstretched.

Mattsun, the traitor, ignores him and turns up the volume.

“I didn’t think that Iwaizumi-san would end up having more fan girls than you, but here we are,” Yahaba says from the corner.

Oikawa whips around to _glare_ at his traitorous kouhai. “I have _plenty_ of fangirls!”

Kunumi looks at Oikawa. “Not as many as Iwaizumi-san.” Kindaichi nods, looking just a little bit pink.

Oikawa huffs, utterly and completely annoyed.

Kyoutani shrugs. “Senpai is just cooler than you.”

Oikawa gapes at him. _“Mad dog!”_

Mattsun laughs, draping a lanky arm over Oikawa, presumably to comfort him. “Yeah, sorry Oikawa, I mean, Iwaizumi’s always been cooler than you, but he’s reached max levels of cool.”

Kindaichi nods again. “Senpai is the coolest!”

“Yeah, I mean, this is like action movie shit. He did _emergency surgery_ on himself,” Mattsun says. “Only Iwaizumi could manage something like that.”

Makki shakes his head, grins a little at Oikawa. “Only Iwaizumi.”

Despite his pouting, Oikawa lets himself smile back.

Finally, quietly, he lets himself think that maybe his Iwa-chan will be okay.

…

“I think I wanna be an astronaut when I’m older.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa sits up, surprised.

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi’s smile is heartbreakingly soft in the starlight.

“Huh. Y’know, out of the two of us, you’d think I’d be the one to do that.”

Iwaizumi turns to look at him. “I think…it’s the way you always talked about it. I love how you love it.”

Tooru blushes. “Stupid Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi rolls back to lay on his stomach, snorting.

They watch the stars for a bit longer. Oikawa sees Iwaizumi there, now, traveling between them, and it’s beautiful and terrifying all at once.

“You’ll have to come back, alright?”

Iwaizumi makes a confused noise.

Tooru bites his lip. “I know that it’ll be amazing up there, but you’ll have to come back.” _For me,_ his mind whispers.

Another quiet laugh under the stars.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Hab, short for "The Mars Lander Habitat", are a series of artificial living quarters that were constructed before the Ares III manned mission to Mars landed. 
> 
> i've gotta make my faves depressed because I, too, am depressed
> 
> thanks for reading, and a comment would make my day! ;)  
> stay safe out there <3

**Author's Note:**

> okay so at first i thought of making oiks watney bc...u know...space and science, but then I realized that iwa WOULD be the one to survive this cause man's a beast
> 
> comments are my writing fuel
> 
> thanks for reading!


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